


Winding Down By Heating Up

by VirtualNight



Category: Original Work
Genre: D&D Backstory, F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-02 14:25:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20277361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirtualNight/pseuds/VirtualNight
Summary: Maeve and Argyle figure out that the best way to relax after a fight is with a good make out session.





	Winding Down By Heating Up

Argyle could still feel his heart racing after their match, his muscles twitching in anticipation for more. But for now it was over. He couldn’t quite describe what he was feeling, but he knew it had something to do with the way they sparred. No malice, but no holding back either. Injuries were frequent, but never more than an inconvenience.

As he raised an arm above his head, pulling it to one side at his elbow, he felt a sharp heat spread through his back. The sudden pain made him falter, the adrenaline having faded enough to let him feel all the aches and strains.

The door to the tent was pushed aside just as he was lifting his tunic, but Maeve’s voice assured him there was no reason to falter.

“That was magnificent! Your wings are certainly stronger than they were even just a week ago.” Her cloak was off as soon as the flap closed behind her, tossed haphazardly onto the nearest surface.

The lid of the apothecary kit creaked open, and he could hear her sifting through bottles and bundles of herbs. He wished he had been attentive enough to know what she was making. If only for peace of mind. “You’ve made a habit of those exercises I showed you, I take it?”

“Oh yes, they are very helpful. Though, the learning curve I’m faced with has only gotten sharper recently.” Despite the laugh his comment prompted, Argyle didn’t turn to face her, focused for the moment on making sure there were no signs of blood on the back of his tunic. If it wasn’t bleeding, it probably just needed rest.

“Does it need mending?” Maeve was always paying attention. “I’m afraid I have more practice on people than clothing.” An interesting detail for her to share, though not surprising alongside her other skills.

“That…sounds more sinister than it should.” Argyle let himself laugh a bit. “But no, my tunic is fine. It’s my back that might need tending to.”

Argyle wasn’t sure if it was what he said, or if she saw something, but Maeve approached him without pause. He was prepared to stop her when she pulled up her mask suddenly. After that he was stunned into stillness, unsure how to react. Or if he should at all.

Had she done it unthinkingly? Perhaps so intent on checking for a wound that she let impulses take control. Up to now, he had assumed she never took it off. Mealtimes were the only time she so much as adjusted it.

It became increasingly difficult to scan through his memories as Maeve pulled his undershirt aside, pressing firmly over bare skin. Argyle flinched despite himself when the pain returned, shooting outward in a flash and leaving a lingering burn behind.

“Nothing serious, it seems.” Maeve stepped to his side, moving his arm at the shoulder in some other test. Though she was only inches away, he couldn’t bring himself to even turn his head for a better look. Out of his peripheral vision, he could only make out the line of her jaw.

“I assume it just needs rest?” He cleared his throat quietly, trying to loosen up the nerves caught there.

“Sure, if you didn’t have magic at your disposal.” 

Her grin was apparent in her voice, though his curiosity allowed him to glimpse her lips to confirm it as he turned his head. He could only them for a moment, and suddenly he was imagining them pulled wide in a smile as she had laughed during their fight.

“You are comfortable with me using magic on you, right?” Maeve all but demanded his consent with that tone.

“What- Oh, yes of course. I trust you completely.” With a nod, he tried to clear his mind. She was being helpful, and trying to sneak a peek at her face was no way to repay that kindness.

“Only time will tell if that’s a wise decision.” She joked.

Maeve placed a hand flat over the outer edge of his shoulder blade under where it met his wing, pressing firmly. Unconsciously he had pulled his wing out of the way, allowing his eyes to wander toward her face once more. The pain under her touch soon faded as what felt like winter wind poured into his skin and through the irritated tissue. Then all discomfort was gone, and only the cold remained.

“Better?”

“Yes…much better, though I didn’t think you knew any healing magic.” Argyle rolled his shoulder slowly.

“Technically I don’t, but the beauty of magic is it’s versatility. I am particularly skilled with ice magic, so you’re lucky to have me around.” 

“I am. Thank you.” He wished for a moment he had been able to come up with something less straight-forward, though he was soon distracted again. Maeve’s fingers traced along the base of his wing and the muscles that moved it. Warmth bloomed in his cheeks, but to his surprise he was still relaxed.

“Your progress shows here too. Soon you’ll have definition that rivals my own.” She laughed, but Argyle could only feel his face get hotter.

It was her smirk that told him she noticed. Maeve stepped out in front of him, face only half concealed by her mask but she didn’t seem to mind. But why?

“I knew you were reserved, but I didn’t take you for one to be bashful at a mere touch.” Her tone said more than her words. Teasing, wanting more of a reaction, but not at all malicious. Argyle knew what that looked like.

He couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering, first to her lips as she spoke, then to the shimmering tattoos on her neck. Magical in some way, no doubt.

“I think it has more to do with you, specifically.” The words came out before he could decide if that was a wise thing to say.

“Oh, really now?” The mask shifted to match her wide grin. Despite its strangeness, he was much more accustomed to one face than the other. Seeing her true face was…intimidating.

He couldn’t answer.

“A blush can mean many things. Is it unease? Perhaps excitement?” 

Argyle could feel her eyes on him, watching carefully.

“I am…” he cleared his throat when his voice cracked “I’m almost certain it’s the latter.”

“Almost?” She stepped closer, looking up at him now. It was difficult to tell if she was anything more than amused, but maybe that was his own insecurity getting in the way.

“Well…knowing what you’re capable of is intimidating.” 

With anyone else that would probably be rude. Argyle only considered that for a split second and when she laughed, it confirmed his thoughts.

“I’ve never known you to be much of a flatterer, Argyle.” Maeve ran her fingers idly over one of the feathers from her mask. “Typically you’re quite candid. It’s one of the things I enjoy about you.”

“I wouldn’t have said it just to, ah…flatter you.” He tried his best not to stare, trying to see through the shadows that hid her from him.

That didn’t matter much in the next moment though. Maeve removed her mask completely in a smooth motion, setting it aside carefully on the nearby table. Argyle lost his train of thought right away. All he could think about was taking in every detail he had never seen before.

Her hair was red. How she managed to keep the curls concealed so perfectly was beyond him. The eyes that looked at him now nearly matched the gold in her jewelry, dark sclera only making them more intense.

“Why…?” He wanted to ask more clearly, but that summarized most of his questions anyway. Why now? Why him? Why a mask at all? He had no right to ask the last one of her right now.

“It’s only fair I think. There’s mutual interest after all.” Her gaze would release his own.

Wait…mutual interest? Argyle suddenly stood up a bit straighter, wings adjusting and folding neatly behind him. He resisted the impulse to fuss with his hair.

“Oh. Well…you didn’t have to. Not right now anyway. Not that I don’t think you’re beautiful, I-…” He was stopped by a raised hand, which was soon planted firmly on his chest.

“Don’t misunderstand.” Maeve’s lips curled into a particularly devious grin. “I can’t kiss you with the mask on, now can I?”

Oh.

Maeve’s hand slid up to his shoulder and with a firm pull, guided him to the table. She paused for a moment, then switched their places. He almost asked what she was doing before he was pushed against the edge, Maeve’s hands soon at his thighs to lift him onto its surface. Argyle watched the muscles in her arms flex as they moved his weight easily.

“Do I weigh anything to you?” He laughed a bit, which helped to release some of his nervous energy. 

“Right now, not particularly.” Maeve’s eyes flicked up to his face while she unbuttoned her vest. The various vials and trinkets lining the inside were carefully wrapped up in the fabric before she set it aside. 

She had his adrenaline going again.

When she pulled him into a kiss-their first kiss-it was like his heart tripped over itself in an effort to keep up. Maeve’s hands were on his neck and at the back of his head, urging him down to meet her. Though he was stunned for a moment, hands simply hovering close to her, they soon came to rest on her arms.

During their second kiss, he let his fingers slide toward her shoulders, lingering over the defined lines in her upper arms. Maeve laughed against his lips, wanting to say something but too focused on .

Argyle could hear his heartbeat in his ears, and it only got louder as Maeve got closer. He held at her waist when she started climbing onto the table, supporting her as best he could. 

“Why the table?”

Maeve took his face in her hands, looking down at him with something in her eyes that he couldn’t place right away. Blue flames lit up in a halo around her head, and it became more obvious. Self-satisfaction.

Vines curled out from behind him, wrapping around the table and rooting into the ground. Maeve was moving him again after that, pushing him back. Argyle nearly started to protest that his wings would be in the way, but he was cushioned by something indescribably soft.

“I didn’t feel like getting out a bedroll. Are you comfortable?” She leaned over him, her weight held above him. Their bodies almost touching. Only a nod was necessary, and they picked up where they had left off.

Whatever was holding him up almost seemed like fog, but it was solid. He would have to keep in mind how creative she could be with her spells.

When their lips met again he could feel cold rush into his mouth. Faint clouds of steam hung in the air when it met his own breath. The thought that she might be so eager to kiss him sent a wave of tingling excitement through him.

He wanted more of her intensity.

Argyle’s arms settled around her, simultaneously pulling her closer and trying to touch as much of her as they could manage. The pleased hum he got in response was more exciting to him than he had expected.

She definitely noticed, and began shifting their position. One of her legs settled between his, pressing up against him just enough. It made him falter, a quick intake of icy breath making him feel almost light-headed. 

Maeve never lost momentum. Her lips moved from his when he paused, fervently claiming his neck in ways that were certain to leave marks. 

“Maeve…” Her name came out as a breath. He could feel himself getting a little too hot, all his nerves alight from her thorough attention.

She pulled back, giving herself a moment. 

“Too much?”

When he nodded, she simply moved to settle on the table next to him.

Argyle was relieved when he heard a contented sigh from her. Any worries that she was unsatisfied drifted from his mind.

“I got…a bit carried away.” Maeve almost sounded surprised. “Next time I won’t feel in such a rush.”

“I wasn’t much better.” A short laugh. “I think it was the rush of a good fight.”

Sitting up, Maeve brushed her hair back over her shoulders. She looked down at him with a smirk.

“Perhaps we should find a more private location in the future then.”


End file.
